


an exercise in doublethink (there is only one truth and it's static for now)

by heart_of_glass



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 18:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heart_of_glass/pseuds/heart_of_glass
Summary: You reach out to touch the umbrella that the skeleton is holding, and a spark of pure arcane energy flits between your hand and the umbrella. You jerk back. (In your mind, she is a red robe and not much else, and your fear is something alive, and she is not, not anymore.)This memory shit would be getting really old, really fast if it hadn’t been like this your whole life. You are fine. Just peachy.





	an exercise in doublethink (there is only one truth and it's static for now)

**Author's Note:**

> canon divergence from pretty much the beginning of here be gerblins. ultimately an exploration of 'what if taako got his memory back a different way than he did in canon'   
> theme song is things we lost in the fire by bastille

_Do you understand that we will never be the same again?_

_The future’s in our hands and we will never be the same again._

\--

You are alone. That’s who you are, that’s how it has to be. You know this just as surely as you know your name is Taako …. something. (You don’t know your last name. The two of you never did.) You know this just as surely as you know who you are. You’re Taako, from TV, and you are alone. You live alone, work alone, and take care of your own damn self.

Sazed was a mistake. You know what happens when you get close to people. You justified Sazed because you couldn’t stand the loneliness anymore. There’s supposed to be someone _there for you._ (She always was.) You’re as good as dead to Sazed now, it doesn’t matter anymore. He bailed on you first chance he got, and good thing he did too. You’re meant to be alone. Everyone always leaves in the end. That way no one (Glamour Springs, why did it have to be like this, _she_ wouldn’t have let this happen) has to bear the fallout of your fuckups. You’ve made plenty of mistakes, and you don’t regret any of them. (You should.) That’s not how Taako rolls. You’re an average wizard who can do party tricks. You know how to talk your way out of situations, but not well. You’re useless in combat. Useless in forming personal relationships. Useless at connecting with others. You think you never had the capacity to do that anyway.

You took a job with two chucklefucks in Phandolin. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t. They’re going to die. (They already have.) The beefy dude makes you feel safe. That isn’t an emotion you know. You don’t do emotions. (You did for her, always for her.) The shitty cleric, strangely, feels like your dad. You don’t have a father. You never had anyone. You never will. First chance you get, you’re outta here. You’re only in this for the money anyway. Despite what some forgotten part of his brain thinks, you don’t care about the two and what a strange trio they make. (the tres horny boys, they’d named themselves.)

There’s a skeleton in the cave, wearing a red robe. You look down at your own robe, and your brain just _stops_. _You’re_ wearing a red robe.

“What the fuck?!” you mutter under your breath.

The beefy dude (Magnus, it was always Magnus to notice first when something was wrong) looks over at you, and makes a weird noise in the back of his throat.

“That’s a really strange robe you’re wearing, dude. You weren’t wearing that a moment ago. It gives me the creeps just looking at it,” Magnus comments, then seems to move on. Magnus is just like that, it seems. (He always was.)

You look down at his chest and the bright red robe that you’re apparently wearing now. Huh. Must have been some weird transmutation shit. Who knows. (You would have, ten years ago.) You’re not that great of a wizard, anyway. (You were so much more, ten years ago.) You’ve long since accepted this.

You mentally shrug and return to studying the skeleton. You hum Spooky Scary Skeletons to yourself as you inch closer. (It was her favorite song, afterwards.) Both the big and small party members are standing a good distance away from you, whispering. Maybe they think your robe stunt shows you’re unstable. God. You already knew that about yourself, thank you very much. It would be great if they waited to kick you out until after they’ve done this _damn_ job.

You reach out to touch the umbrella that the skeleton is holding, and a spark of pure arcane energy flits between your hand and the umbrella. You jerk back. (In your mind, she is a red robe and not much else, and your fear is something alive, and she is not, not anymore.) You are suddenly very aware of your hat sitting on your head, like it always is. (You doofus, what the fuck kinda fashion is that? I knew you were a dork, but there’s only room for one nerd on this team.) You look to your side for reassurance. There is no one there. You are acutely aware of your loneliness. Magnus and Merle are silent now, watching you. You can feel their eyes on your back. (Eyes, eyes, why is it always eyes?) You grab the umbrella tightly on impulse, and a wave of crackling red energy flows around you, Magnus, and Merle. The three of you share a glance, the other two’s sketchy plotting left for later. You shrug, like you don’t know anything. You don’t. (She taps you on the top of the head with the umbrastaff, and the next morning she’s gone.)

Your little adventuring party silently agrees to not talk about whatever just happened. You wonder how you can read them so well. You don’t bring that up either. Taako doesn’t talk shit out. Never has, never will. (She made you, after the apocalypse came the first time.)

The orc woman speaks in static and your brain goes numb. This is too much, too much, and you’re thinking about the number seven and your eyes are locked onto your now red robe. You look up at the orc woman with well hidden tears in your eyes and tell her to shut up now, please. This isn’t making any sense to the three of you, and you want to get on with the mission. There’s an umbrastaff in your hand, (god, why did she name it that, she could have named it something cool, like you did with your weapon) and your head is simultaneously cotton and the heaviest thing you’ve ever carried. The ongoing conversation turns to sand in your ears and you leave the room to explore further in the cave.

There’s a vault up ahead and you _know_ that you are not supposed to open it. Your newly acquired umbrastaff is shaking in your hold, fuck, that’s you shaking. ( _Back soon_ , she’d said. Is this where it went wrong?)

Fuck it, your name is Taako and you are opening this stupid vault. It’s probably something dumb inside anyway. Besides, you’ve got some hella buff party members now if something went wrong. You drag Merle’s cousin (Merle doesn’t have cousins, hasn’t for over a century) to the vault and make him open it.

 _Fuck_. Your head is numb, now. All you can think about is fire and black glass. You hug the umbrastaff to your chest. You are _terrified_. Taako doesn’t do terrified. He doesn’t do terrified hugging of inanimate objects. You don’t let the umbrastaff go. You stare at the gauntlet and cease to think at all.

By the time your brain brings you coherent sensory input again, Magnus and Merle are both staring at you, hard. They look concerned. You stare them both down. It seems no one has moved. They’re all waiting for you. Fuck.

“What’s up, my dudes. Why are we all standing around this hella chill vault?” you say, as if you don’t already know the answer.

Merle searches your face for something, what you don’t know, but he doesn’t seem to find it. He looks like he cares. “Waiting for you, you idiot. Who zones out in the middle of a mission?”

“Me. Taako’s one of a kind, baby. You gotta learn to live with it if we’re gonna get anywhere.”

You let Magnus touch the gauntlet because, frankly, you don’t care. (You do.) The orc woman cries out, then relaxes somewhat when nothing happens. You’re eyes flick to Merle’s cousin without your permission. You step between him and Magnus. You don’t know what you’re doing. (You do.)

With your protection, your party get back up to the surface without any fire. Of course, there was never going to be any fire even remotely possible in the first place. That’s ridiculous. (It’s not. She got worse every time you heard about the newest destruction in the world below. You all did.)

It’s as soon as you have that thought that everything goes to shit. Merle’s cousin grabs the gauntlet, puts it on and your brain is on fire. The waves of _no, no, no, not again, it would kill her to know it’s happened again_ going through you right now rock your body with a near physical force. _Who are you_ talking _about?_ This memory shit would be getting really old, really fast if it hadn’t been like this your whole life. You are _fine_. Just peachy.

Your hands are on your knees and the umbrastaff is shaking. You look up to find a lich in front of you. He looks familiar. _What the fuck._ You officially nope out of this shitty situation. Taako is good out here. He is _good out here_. Fuck.

He can say his mantra as many times as he wants, his nonexistent conscience is telling him to get involved. “What the fuck.” You deadpan. You don't know why you're having this chill of a reaction when a luck just appeared right in front of you. Liches are hostile. (Not them, never them.) You should be running away. You aren't.

The lich speaks up. “I know you don't know me, but you need to trust me. Shit’s about to pop off.”

You cringe. (It was weird for the first few years, how much of each other’s vernacular they picked up.) The umbrastaff pulls you toward the lich. You steadfastly ignore it. Your attention is better spent on Merle's cousin. Who is now gone. Fuck. Your head hurts.

“Alright, skeleton man, I don't care who you are under all that arcane energy, we've got a runaway dwarf on our hands and if we don't catch him shit is going to burn.”

The others look at you like they don't know what you're talking about, with the exception of the lich, who's looking at you strangely. That's fair. You don't know what you're talking about either.

Phandolin burns. In a moment of crisis you call the lich Barry. His head jerks up and you scramble to explain that he just reminded you of this guy who was the bodyguard for Merle's now dead cousin. You explain that Barry’s also dead. (The first time he died it didn't make sense you. Death was something he investigated, not got first hand experience in.)

You've decided to keep calling the lich Barry, just to be a dick. It’s who you are, who you've always been. (That's wrong.) Barry makes you follow him to this secret cave he has. The orc woman doesn't want to go, saying she has somewhere else to take you all. You don't care. Your head hurts when she speaks in static. (She sang static once. If you could think anymore, you would say that was the beginning of the end.) You decide you hate static, and resolutely ignore her.

Once inside the cave, you double over in pain. Magnus and Merle are immediately hovering, and so is Barry. You ship them away, determined to stand even though your head is on _fire_. You grip the umbrastaff tighter when you think that. (She's burning down the DMV and it's the best day ever and you don't think fire is bad, not yet.)

Your head is burning and you are burning and your verbal filter has burned away just like the rest of you and you can’t stop yourself anymore. You never could. The contradictions in your head twist their jagged edges back around until you are a cold mess that fits together into something crooked, and broken, and alone. (You were never alone. You have always been alone.)

You can’t think about it.

You can’t.

You stare at Barry instead of thinking about it.

The static in your head reaches a violent climax as your eyes come to rest on the painting framed above Barry’s desk. The static covering the seven people in the frame winks in and out, and your head pulses in time. You decide not to look at it anymore.

You can hear Magnus asking Barry exactly what the hell is going on, and the orc woman and Merle have gone quiet. Merle still looks concerned with your episode back when all of you entered the cave, but you refuse to talk about whatever the hell is going on in your head with him. You can’t. You think you might just explode if you do. (No, he tells you, scientifically that could never happen. Spontaneous human combustion isn’t a thing. You disagree. You’ve had this debate a hundred times before. There’s not much to do on this goddamn ship.) Barry is saying that your party needs to wait before he has a body again before you go anywhere, and the orc woman is protesting like her life depends on it. She says again that there’s somewhere she needs to take you, and she isn’t taking no for an answer anymore.

“Then have her take down the lich ward, and don’t you dare tell her why,” Barry says in a calm voice. He won’t take no for an answer either. The orc woman is suitably intimidated. You’re not. (Nerd alert! She whispers in your ear, before closing out your press conference the only way the two of you know how: with flair.)

But it’s not you he’s trying to convince. The orc woman caves and calls her boss on her stone of farspeech. You can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but it appears to be a difficult one. You don’t really care. You are a hot mess right now. You’ve officially lost your shit. You can’t think about who you are without some godawful static. You can’t think about much of anything, in fact.

You’re on the moon. All five of you. You think you’ve officially gone insane. Who the fuck builds a _fake moon_ as their secret base? Someone way too overdramatic. (They make fun of her for loving to build up the drama, but really, all of them are ridiculous in their own ways.)

Then the four of you who don’t live on the _goddamn secret society moon_ are ushered into the chamber of a...fish. (Magnus comes rushing onto the ship with a guest in tow, and you are an inch from death, again.) It reaches its tendrils out to you, and your head pulses harder now. Fuck what Barry says, you think you might explode. You reach out with your umbrastaff to touch one of its tentacles, and that red arcane energy crackles up again, this time with more desperation. (She dabs, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.)

Barry is fixing you with his stare again, but you can’t think about that. You drink some weirdass voidfish ichor, and your head just gets more confused. There’s a constant buzzing in the back of your mind now, like the bees you had to spent an entire fucking year with in cycle 33. You don’t miss that planet. You miss _your_ planet.

You’re two layers removed from reality as you enter the main hall. Your eyes are glued to the painting on the far end of the main hall. You don’t have control over your body anymore. You slowly move your fingers back and forth until they stop feeling numb. You remember doing this to calm down once it sunk in you were never going to see your home again. That thought (that you can’t think about, fuck) prompts you to look around at the others to see if they’re experiencing some similar brain crisis. You lock eyes with Barry. You freeze. You’re standing on the deck of the Starblaster. You kill him. You forget.

“That was a shitty way to start off a new life, wasn’t it?” you laugh to yourself. He jumps.

“Of course, your real name had to be Barry, didn’t it, my dear Barold. The universe has a sense of irony. Fuck. We're all doomed.” You’re just rambling now. You don’t know how you know this information. Someone needs to stop you. No one does. It’s deathly quiet. Lucretia is frozen, panicked in the way she was after her year alone. Everyone else is frozen too, but with considerably more confusion in their eyes.

In the silence, you allow yourself to look at the painting on the other end of the room. You look at your twin, smiling and alive and immortal. And you remember. Just like that. Everything snaps into place, and you are very angry. Lup isn’t here to stop you now.

You look at Lucretia. God, _Lucretia_. You smile. Very wide.

She’s taken aback. Clearly she wasn’t expecting you to remember. You keep smiling until you can’t anymore, and then you drop the expression, twirling the umbrastaff in your hands and staring Lucretia down. The tension in the room is palpable. No one has said anything. No one, except for you, Barry, and Lucretia, know anything that matters. You conjure a flame in your palm with the umbrastaff. Lucretia flinches. You don’t. You know too much about loss to flinch. She said she wouldn’t leave, and she did anyway. They all did. Not voluntarily, you know, but it happened anyway, and you were alone.

“So, Lucretia,” you say lightly, “I think we might have a few things to talk about.”

**Author's Note:**

> so. idk how this reads? its a Big Concept. hope you liked it! (taako and lucretia both deserve a break tbh and what do I do? make this. which does Not do that.)


End file.
